


Crybaby | Miraculous Ladybug

by junkwhoore



Series: Castles Fall Into The Sea [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Abandoning Religion, Ableism, Ableist Language, Abuse, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois Friendship, Adrien and Chloe Are Trauma Buddies, Aged-Up Character(s), Alex Mercer's Parents Are Homophobic (Julie and The Phantoms), Andre Bourgeois Is A Bad Parent Too, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Audrey Bourgeois Is A Terrible Mother, Bad Parent Audrey Bourgeois, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Based on a Melanie Martinez Song, Bee Chloé Bourgeois | Queen Bee, Blasphemy, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Bulimia, Bullying, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Chloe Is Bad At Feelings, Chloé Bourgeois Being Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois Character Study, Chloé Bourgeois Needs a Hug, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Chloé Bourgeois-centric, Christianity, Comfort/Angst, Coming Out, Cotton Ball Eating, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Dragon Kagami Tsurugi | Ryuko, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s01 Volpina, Everyone Has Issues, F/F, F/M, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE TAGS, Fat Shaming, Fox Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth Being Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Gay Panic, Harm, Hate Crimes, Hate Speech, Hate to Love, Heavy Angst, Heteronormativity, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Horse Max Kanté | Pegasus, I Hate The Love Square But Fuck It, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't regret anything, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Chloé Bourgeois, Lesbian Romance, Lila Anon Is Welcomed Here, Lila Rossi Redemption, Lucky Charm And Miraculous Ladybugs Cure | Ladybug Miraculous Superpowers Don't Fix Everything, M/M, Manipulative Lila Rossi, Marinette Dupain-Cheng bashing, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Is a Little Shit, Marinette Is Not Innocent, Miraculous Fusions, Miraculous Holder Chloé Bourgeois, Miraculous Side Effects, Miraculous Team, Monkey Lê Chiến Kim | Roi Singe, Multi, New Family, New Mayura, New Miraculous Holders, Original Character-centric, Paganism, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Platonic Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Chloé Bourgeois, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rabbit Alix Kubdel | Bunnyx, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Self-Indulgent, Snake Luka Couffaine | Viperion, Stolen Miraculouses (Miraculous Ladybug), Suffering, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, The Author Regrets Nothing, Therapy, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Transphobia, Trauma, Trauma Dumping Onto My Favorite Characters, Using Christianity To Defend/Justify Homophobic Behehavior, Vomiting, Wiccan - Freeform, aged-up, pure angst, read the tags, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-26 01:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30098430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkwhoore/pseuds/junkwhoore
Summary: She is done looking for love where it does not exist; she coughs up dust in attempts to drink from dry wells.ORChloe is tired of her family and doesn't know how to deal with her underlying issues, including her internalized homophobia and her hero complex.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste & Chloé Bourgeois & Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Nino Lahiffe, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Plagg, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Alix Kubdel & Lê Chiến Kim, Alya Césaire & Trixx, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, André Bourgeois/Audrey Bourgeois, Audrey Bourgeois & Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois & Kagami Tsurugi, Chloé Bourgeois & Lila Rossi, Chloé Bourgeois & Luka Couffaine, Chloé Bourgeois & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois & Original Female Character(s), Chloé Bourgeois & Pollen, Chloé Bourgeois & Sabrina Raincomprix, Chloé Bourgeois/Original Character(s), Chloé Bourgeois/Original Female Character(s), Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nooroo, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Juleka Couffaine & Luka Couffaine, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Lê Chiến Kim/Ondine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Tikki, Max Kanté & Markov, Max Kanté/Sabrina Raincomprix, Nino Lahiffe & Wayzz
Series: Castles Fall Into The Sea [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2214687
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16





	1. Her Paper Crown

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy hurting my comfort characters and then showering them with love along the way. This story is triggering and will include very touchy topics. Please, read the tags before continuing. I cannot be held responsible if you continue to read, knowing specific topics trigger you. In my version, all the students are sixteen to eighteen because that makes more sense (in my opinion) and fits the story better.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little girls grow into their mothers' faces.

_"Mommy, I want to look just like you," a young Chloe clamored, bright blue eyes glistening with sheer excitement. The toddler trailed after her mother, clutching her drawing to her chest. Just a moment of Audrey's time is all the six-year-old wanted. She wanted her mother to adore her._

_Chloe wanted to be worth something to Audrey._

_The older woman glanced down at her beaming before rolling her eyes, annoyed at how hyperactive the blonde was. God, couldn't she just shut up and take the hint that Audrey didn't care? Instead, Audrey faked a smile, lowering herself to Chloe's level, and patted her rosy, plump cheeks. "You want to be just like Mommy?" the mother cooed, lowering her white sunglasses._

_Chloe nodded her head excitedly. "yeah! Mommy's the best, and Mommy's very pretty!" the young girl chirped, gripping the paper in her tiny hands. She was happy_ — _ecstatic when Audrey noticed her. That was all she wanted; her mother's warm glance of approval. "I wanna be rich and famous and pretty just like Mommy! Everyone in Paris knows who Mommy is!"_

 _Audrey bit back a wicked laugh, covering her taunting smile with her fist. Looking away for a split second, the fashion queen ruffling Chloe's short curls. "I'm afraid you aren't on my level, Claudia_ — _Chloe," she corrected._

_Chloe frowned, lowering her hands. "What does that mean?" she questioned, knitting her eyebrows._

_"It means you aren't good enough."_

So Chloe would change; she would change for the sake of her mother. Her polite mannerisms? Tossed out the window without a second, she adopted a cruel personality, taunting those she deemed weak and pathetic. It was amusing watching her classmates' faces twist and turn as she mocked them, tearing into the fabric of their being. 

Any chances of making friends failed as Chloe announced that nobody was good enough to be her friends—Sabrina was the only exception as Chloe deemed as a mere worker bee in her large hive. She supposed Max and the idiotic Kim could be considered her "friends," but like Sabrina, they were only around because they benefitted her. She could care less if they wanted to be around. 

They weren't good enough for her, anyway. 

She "matured" faster than the rest of her female peers. She showed off a nice set of curves; plush pink lips coated with a thin layer of nude, matte lipstick and an ocean blue eyeshadow dusted over her eyelids. White, skinny jeans, a yellow cardigan, ballet flats, and tight, black-and-white shirts became part of her daily wardrobe. She became a walking cliché, but she could care less as long as she got her mother's attention, the attention she starved for and desired. All she wanted was to be good enough for her mother, to be loved and cared for by the one parent, at least. 

Occasionally, Audrey would pop in from New York, spending a week with her, critiquing Chloe's appearance. "You're getting big, Claude— _Chloe_. You ought to work on your body image more," Audrey would point, pinching her daughter's sides. Chloe had some fat in some areas, but it was normal for a girl her age. But Audrey wanted it changed so Chloe would get rid of the fat. She began fasting, cutting her meals in half or skipping meals entirely. 

When that didn't work as fast as she'd like, Chloe began eating cotton balls, trying to fill her stomach, and convince her body that she was eating. This routine led to her throwing up, hunched over the toilet as she forced a finger down her throat. It was a painful experience, but it was worth it; all Chloe wanted was Audrey's attention. Her figure began slimming down but at the risk of Chloe becoming weaker. Her ribs were threatening to poke through her skin like pins, but she worried little about it. Her progress made Audrey acknowledge her for once. 

"See, this looks so much better. You _could_ become a model at this rate if you don't bloat again," Audrey stated, squeezing Chloe's shoulder before retreating to her bedroom. Chloe felt the butterflies swarm in her stomach, a smile spreading across her face. Was she good enough to be a model if he kept off the extra weight? Who cares if it was a backhanded compliment; Audrey finally recognized her daughter's potential. 

Rolling the scrunchie out of her hair, Chloe let her hair pool around her shoulders, frowning at the split ends. She would need to schedule another hair appointment soon; her hair was somewhat healthy, still glossy, but thinning out. If she took more hair supplements, her curls would be thick and healthy in no time. 

She pranced in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands down the side of her torso, smiling. She had the body every girl would kill to have; Chloe would flaunt it like it was nobody's business. Especially in front of Marinette, that fat little piggy. 

Her stomach gurgled, demanding food. She frowned, pinching her sides. No, if she ate anything, she would gorge out on food, and all her efforts would have been for nothing. Instead, the blonde strolled into her bathroom, rummaging through the cabinets before she found the glass container of cotton balls. Without hesitation, Chloe shoved two cotton balls down her throat, wincing as the dry material traveled down her throat, gripping the counter before she could breathe again. 

Those should hold off her hunger for a bit; a small salad later wouldn't hurt, she concluded, tucking the glass container back underneath the sink, and waltzed out of her room, peering over the balcony. 

She felt like a queen, staring down at the lowly peasants who bustled about in the streets. Chloe was on top; she deserved the best—she _is_ the best. Sabrina should be _lucky_ that Chloe considers her a friend and offers her hand-me-downs from time to time. The ginger should be grateful that the blonde even takes time out of her day to deal with someone as unsightly as Sabrina.

The sun kissed her pale skin, peeking out from behind the clouds as Chloe basked in the warmth. It was a beautiful evening; she would say, running her fingers along the edge of the railing, allowing her body to relax. "I should tan more; I'm getting too pale," Chloe grumbled, frowning at how pale her skin had become. Maybe she would make Sabrina get a tan, too. The ginger was too pale for her liking, and they would clash if they went out together. 

Stretching out her arms, Chloe made a note to start tanning tomorrow and retreated inside, popping her fingers. She still had homework to finish, and Sabrina left Paris for a few days. The ginger claimed it was because her father was looking for a better-paying job, and it was a possibility that they were moving soon. "Excuses, excuses," the blonde mocked, rolling her eyes. 

Chloe was convinced Sabrina had just grown tired of her presence and asked her father to move. She wouldn't be surprised at this point; almost everyone in the school hated her. 

Her phone chimed, followed by a text message flashing across the screen. She picked it up, unlocked her phone, and read the statement over. It was from her beloved Adrien; he wanted to let her know that he would be out of school fr a while. His father, Gabriel, demanded that he attend a fashion shoot in Japan. 

Ugh, great, now her first friend was leaving her, too? Was this the universe giving Chloe the middle finger? Giving her a _giant fuck_ for everything she had done in the past years? For bullying Marinette and the rest of her peers, for mocking their appearances and self-projecting? It wasn't shocking if this were karma paying her in full; Chloe was a terrible person after all. 

_I hope you have fun in Japan, at least, Adrikins. Bring me back a souvenir >3 I love you, _she messaged, shutting off her phone and tossed it onto her bed. God, she sounded desperate—maybe she was from how she threw herself at Adrien. he was the only one who didn't shy away from her. Of course, she had to be kind to the others, and she made an attempt, but _only_ because Adrien asked her to change. 

Rolling onto her stomach, Chloe flipped through her books, bored and unamused. She, without a doubt, was an intelligent girl, but she didn't apply herself. _The only thing that matters is your social standing; you won't need that useless garbage if you follow in my footsteps,_ is what Audrey told her, hammering it into Chloe's brain. She would force Sabrina to do the work, stating that she didn't care and just wanted a good grade. Sabrina never complained except for when they had been paired with Marinette. Chloe had to do the work for once; she complained but begrudgingly filled out her work portion. 

"Mademoiselle," Butler Jean spoke, opening the door, smiling at his young mistress. "Your mother wanted me to tell you that she wishes to see your presence after dinner—something about your measurements," he finished. 

Chloe hummed, barely lifting her head from her work, and dismissed her butler. "Yeah, yeah, I'll see her after finner. She could have told me herself instead of telling you to come to tell me," she snapped. It wasn't Jean's fault, and she felt guilty that she snapped at him, but it hurt that Audrey—her _fucking_ mother—couldn't come and tell her that she wanted to see Chloe after dinner. It's not like Chloe would eat much; it all went to the toilet once she made it back to her room unless Jean decided to check up on her. 

Shutting her textbook, Chloe rolled onto her backside, shielding her eyes with her arms, exhaling. Her life was falling apart, but it's not like anyone would believe that. Come on; she was a rich girl. Money could solve her problems; that's the narrative society painted. Rich people can buy their happiness, or they don't get to feel sad. 

Maybe counseling would help? How laughable would that be? Chloe could see the headlines now: _Daughter of Fashion and Paris's Mayor in need of counseling._ She would be the laughing stock, and no one would take her seriously. 

_Mental health is a poor person's problem. That's just an excuse for people to feel sorry for themselves._

"I'll ask Daddy to buy me another dress," Chloe mumbled, swinging herself over the edge of her bed, padding across the room. She decided to change into something more appropriate for dinner; a plain tee-shirt and her white capri pants wouldn't be appropriate for a dinner setting. Her yellow halter dress with her ballerina flats would be perfect.

Yellow _was_ a pretty color on her, after all. 

Chloe waltzed over to her walk-in closet with a joyful hum, quickly dressing in her halter dress and flats. It fit perfectly, the skirt flowing around her narrow legs and hips, swishing when she twirled. She was perfect; Audrey would have to see that she was trying, that Chloe wanted to be just like her. 

And she would. Chloe would make her mother proud or die trying. 


	2. Her Dollhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her emotions are like the raging sea: she'll drown in them if she doesn't figure out how to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear everything up, this takes place before Volpina, but it doesn't follow the canon plotline for now.

Dinner went surprisingly well—better than most evenings, Chloe supposed. Audrey complimented Chloe's body when she arrived. "I see you can finally fit into that dress I bought you ages ago. You look good in yellow, _shockingly_ ," her mother stated while Andre showered her with kisses and praises. He pushed his daughter's chat in, taking a seat next to his wife. Chloe accepted the backhanded compliment, folding the napkin in her lap. At least they had a chance to eat together like an average family. 

_Normal_ , what did it even mean anymore? What's classified as normal? It certainly wasn't her family; her mother was neglectful and abusive. Either spending her time in New York, criticizing Chloe's being, or giving backhanded compliments that Chloe ate up without a second thought. 

Her father was no better, wasting his time in the office, pussyfooting around, and buying her love with trinkets and other mundane items. What a big, _happy_ family they are, Chloe mocked, poking at the mushrooms and onions on her plate. 

_The perfect facade, fooling everyone._

"Look at this fattening, disgusting dish," Audrey voiced, words dripping with venom as she glared at the braised chicken, cutting into the poultry dish. She held up a piece for Andre to see, giving him a disapproving glance. "Do you expect me to eat this _mess_? Do you know what it'll do to my figure? Honestly, I knew you were dense, but not _this_ dense. I'll gain five pounds from eating this garbage alone," she scoffed, pushing her plate away, demanding a server to bring a Ceaser salad for her and Chloe. 

Andre protested, wiping the corners of his mouth. "If you don't like the dish, you can ask for something else, dearest, but don't force Chloe to get a salad. This is her favorite dish," he pointed out, gesturing to his daughter. 

Audrey rolled her eyes, smacking Chloe's hand when she went to eat the chicken. "Don't that disgusting slop; it's bad enough you already ate the mushrooms. Do you want to put back on that weight when you can finally fit into that dress?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Chloe opened her mouth, only to shut it second laters, pushing her plate away, and looked down. With a smile, the fashion critic focused her attention on her bumbling husband. "I thought you would care about Chloe's health, Andre. She was getting grossly overweight. We don't want to be a little piggy, would we? She needs to look her very best, and no daughter of mine is going to look like a cow."

Her mother's words stung, leaving her chest heaving. God, she wanted to run away and empty her stomach again. Chloe just smiled while her parents argued, throwing insults back and forth. What a wonderful family she was blessed with. _Indeed an honor to be the dinner conversation_ , she bitterly thought, thanking the chef for the salad, and bit into the grape tomato. Part of her was tempted to drown her salad with ranch, but Audrey would scream at her, telling her that she would get fat because of how many calories ranch dressing contained. So Chloe opted for a plain salad to stay on the safe side, picking at the leafy greens and shreds of cheese. 

"For Christ's sake, am I the _only_ one who gives a damn about our daughter's future!?" Audrey shrieked, slamming her fists against the table, trembling with pure rage. She angrily gestured to Andre's body, huffing through her nose. "Just look at yourself! Do you think I would want that for Claudina— _Chloe_! If I wanted to look at a disgusting pig, I would have stayed in New York and looked at the Americans, and all they do is shove food down their throats—just like you," she snapped. 

Andre sputtered, tossing his hands in the air. "You're acting like a child, Audrey! You're making a big deal over nothing—it's _food,_ for Christ's sake, not drugs!"

The fashion queen tipped her head back ad let mockingly. "Of course, a disgusting, fat pig like yourself would say it's food, nothing more and nothing less. You don't even care about your appearance, you sickening sow! Horribly obese and weak-willed too! I knew I should have married Gabriel—he's a _fine_ man, I do say. More _fit and attractive_ than you are, and he would agree with my actions. My mother was right: politicians are a disappointment."

 _Just pretend you're on a cruise. You're someplace else like Italy or Rome_ — _Germany or Prussia sounds like a beautiful place for a vacation. Maybe England or Japan_ , Chloe thought, stabbing her grape tomatoes, drowning out the sound of her parents' childish bickering. God, they were worse than those bad parent actors in movies; it was laughable, honestly. She didn't even want to finish her supper; the blonde stood up, announcing she would be in her room. 

Neither parent acknowledged her statement, still going at each other's throats as they tore into each other. 

Her room was a safe haven. No one could bother her when she was by her lonesome. Peace and tranquility awaited her as she threw open the door, pressing off her dress. It was more freeing, walking around without clothes on, wearing nothing but her bra and panties. Standing in front of the body-length mirror, Chloe noticed her ribs; they threatened to poke through her skin. It should have grossed her out, but she was indifferent to the sight. 

"Whatever," was all Chloe managed to mumbled, pulling her hair back into a low ponytail, flopping on her bed. She didn't even bother to check her phone right away; it wasn't worth it. The blonde rarely received any messages from anyone. Sabrina ignored her, and Adrien only texted her if he needed something from her or had their vent sessions. Occasionally, Chloe would scroll through her Instagram account, but it was so bare. Only filled with pictures of herself or a few photos of Sabrina and Adrien. Sure, she had over a million likes and followers, but what was the point? 

All it did was boost Chloe's ego. So fucking pathetic. 

Rolling onto the bed, Chloe splayed her arms across the silk sheets. She was beyond exhausted; bags clung underneath her eyes while her chest heaved, rising and falling with each breath. Maybe God was punishing her for being such a miserable child; perhaps Chloe had incurred the Lord's wrath, and this was His way of showing her terrible behavior. Showing Chloe this is how she acted when she was with others. The theory checked out and made sense to Chloe. Her parents had brought her up to believe in God and His _wondrous_ ways.

It was divine punishment—godly intervention, Chloe reckoned.

With the sun setting, Chloe thought it would be best to turn in for the night. No one would bother her, after all. Not a single person in her school liked Chloe. She was a stuck-up brat who didn't give a damn about anyone else's feelings but her own. Of course, it was necessarily true—she cared about Adrien's and Sabrina's feelings but didn't know how to act or what to say. 

Her phone buzzed, shifting on her pillow. "Who the _fuck_?" Chloe grumbled, scratching her head and checked her notifications. She received two texts: one from Adrien and the other from Marinette. The first one Chloe had anticipated, the second one came as a surprise. "Why the hell would Dupain-Cheng be texting me? A better question is, how did she get my number? I swear if this a prank call."

_Uh, Marinette here. I got your number from Sabrina; Ms. Bustier wanted me to message everyone about the upcoming field trip to Japan next month. Please make sure you have turned in your permission slip if you haven't already. Also, hand in your payment to the office if you haven't covered the cost yet._

Chloe had almost forgotten about the trip to Japan. There was a good possibility that she could see Adrien in Japan at his fashion show; he would look handsome in his kimono and yukata. While Gabriel was by no means a good father, he had impeccable fashion taste. 

With an irritated groan, the blonde shot a quick text to the class president. The words tasted bitter in her mess, to refer to Marinette as the class president was admitting she was above Chloe. No was above Chloe; she was a Bourgeois, for fuck's sake. She would recognize Marinette as a natural leader; she didn't have what it takes to command a group. She's a push-over, a loser. 

_Fuck off. I'll get it done when I get it done, Dupain-Cheng. Don't text me unless someone important is dying or there's a new fashion trend._

Chloe didn't care if Marinette screenshotted the messages and sent them to Mr. Damocles. She could just have her mother and father pay him off to keep quiet about the whole ordeal. For a fair price, money could buy silence. 

Chloe's phone pinged, showing Marinette's name flash across the screen with a message reading, _You should really watch how you talk to people, Chloe. You're going to end up all alone if you keep that attitude up. Have a good night and please, turn in your payment before the due date._

The blonde stewed in her anger before throwing her phone at the wall in a fit of rage. How dare that fat, little piggy talk down to her like she was better than Chloe!? Did that annoying nuisance have an inkling of an idea who she was speaking to? If Chloe complained to her father, Marinette's parents' business would be closed in an instant. The baker was a nobody—a _stupid_ , little nobody who always had to have her nose in other people's business. An insect who didn't know her place; bugs should remain under Chloe's heel. 

Again, Chloe's phone chimed despite the screen being broken. She didn't even want to get up to check the notifications. What was the point? It was a good chance Adrien or Sabrina was texting her, or a mundane report popped up. The rich girl pulled the blankets over her head, burying her face in the plush, red pillow. Maybe going to bed would help clear Chloe's head. 

Chloe curled up into her thick blankets with closed eyes, pressing her yellow teddybear to her small chest. Mr. Cuddly would never leave her; he was the only one who cared for her. It was sad how she found comfort in a stuffed toy—a teddybear who couldn't even talk with her. Chloe almost laughed, smothering the bear against her face, relaxing when she smelled the calming scent of spring lilac, relaxing her soul as she went limp against the cushion. 

Some sleep would do Chloe some justice. Stress was the natural enemy of beauty, and she had an image to maintain; counting backward from one hundred in intervals of three, she could feel her eyes drooping as black slowly began taking over her vision. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the light streamed in, Chloe shielded her face, groaning and complaining about how it was too early to be up. She tossed the blankets off her body, stretching her aching arms and legs while padding across the room. "I got bed head," the blonde sighed, rubbing her drained face, and went to wash up. Today wouldn't be unique—it was always a dull day in College François, especially when Sabrina didn't show up. God, Chloe would be terribly lonely unless she decided to sit with Kim and Max. 

After a quick shower and applying copious amounts of makeup to her tired face, Chloe pulled her hair into a high ponytail and slung her purse over her shoulder before sauntering out of the room. She had no time for breakfast, brushing Butler Jean's hand aside when he offered a salad. "I'm not hungry, and it'll make me fat," she scoffed, curling her lips into a sneer. 

_You liar. That salad looks fucking delicious, dumb ass. A small bite wouldn't hurt; Mommy would never know, plus its just fruit._

The butler frowned, holding the hold in front of Chloe's face. "You must eat; you've been getting sick. I can see it in your face," he pointed out, escorting the young mistress to a table, handing her a fork and glass of orange juice. Jean was worried for her; he was there for most of her life and was a better parent than her parents—it was a damn shame, too. 

She shrugged, popping a strawberry into her awaiting mouth. "It's natural. I'm trying to lose weight; I'm unhealthy," Chloe parroted, stabbing a piece of watermelon and thoughtfully chewed. "Look at me: I'm a damn pig. I don't wanna look like that ugly swine, Marinette," she muttered, pinching her sides. 

" _Chloe_ ," Butler Jean sternly said, squeezing her skeletal hands. His hands were warm and comforting; he felt safe, like home—a home where Chloe could belong and be accepted and love; a far-off dream. She could hear the concern laced in his voice, the worry that shimmered in his eyes when they looked at each other. He sighed, stroking the back of her hand gingerly. "If you keep this, you're going to waste away. You're unhealthy _now_ because you keep starving yourself. It's dangerous."

Chloe wanted to argue with the butler, screaming at him to mind his damn business and leaving her alone, but she wanted to break down and cry simultaneously. God, why couldn't her parents love her the way Jean loved and cared for her? Why couldn't they just get along or get a fucking divorce if their marriage was so miserable? Why make her suffer?

Why was God punishing her for something out of her control?

"Well," Chloe started, finishing the last of her fruit salad, pushing the bowl forward, "I'm eating now, so don't worry about me." The butler did as he was told, sighing as he escorted the young lady to her limousine. Jean handed Chloe her bookbag, wishing her a good day. 

How could one have a good day whenever despised her? Chloe simply nodded, lowering her lashes as the limo roared to life, pulling out of the lot. The ride was quiet and short, peaceful even. Just how Chloe preferred it; how she would love her home life to be. 

"We have arrived," the chauffeur announced, stepping out of the limousine to help the young mistress, holding the door open for her. The corners of his mouth crinkled into a soft smile, tipping his hat to the young lady. "I will pick you up after school, mademoiselle. Please, have a good day," the older gentleman hummed, sliding back into the driver's seat, driving back to her father's hotel. 

The staff rarely talked to her, per Audrey's request. Saying that Chloe didn't need to associate with commoners, and it was terrible that Andre made her angel attend a public school and associate with the rats that scurried around like a parasite. 

She ignored the idle chatter as she walked up the stairs, rolling her eyes when passing Marinette and her nerd herd. Of course, the poor baker had been rambling about how perfect Adrien and how he would be stuck with Japan; how horrible Chloe had been last night when she shot the blonde a friendly reminder to bring the payment for the field trip. Alya, as usual, had to chime in, voicing her opinions while Nino silently agreed.

Whatever. Liked, Chloe cared about a pig's opinions. She was better than the trio—she above them. It was _blatantly_ obvious. 

Her phone vibrated. Chloe reached for her broken phone with an irritated sigh, making a note to ask Daddy to buy her a phone later tonight. She smiled, stroking the broken screen tenderly when she saw Adrien's name flash across the screen. 

_Hey Chloe! It's probably early for you, but I wanted to wish you a good morning, and I hope you have a good day. Please, don't start any drama, especially Alya and Marinette._

She chuckled, writing back, _No promises, Adrikins; don't be late for your photoshoot. It's 3:00 over there; I'll text you when I have the chance. Bye Rapunzel >3\. _

"Good morning, Chloe!" rose chimed happily, skipping up the stairs. The petite girl was glowing with positive energy while her girlfriend followed the bouncing optimist. "I wanted to say that you look really pretty too, and I like your makeup! Blue is a good color on you."

Chloe lifted her head, quirking an eyebrow. Rose always had something nice to say about her peers, even if they hated her guts and spat insults. Rolling her eyes, Chloe dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand, mumbling beneath her breath. 

The class was empty as usual, and Chloe already knew she would be sitting alone. It was funny in a way; the most popular girl in school would be sitting by her lonesome. Everyone would find this a moment to remember as everyone would note how Sabrina wasn't present—the ginger _never_ missed class. 

It wasn't long before the bell chimed, and Ms. Bustier waltzed in once everyone got settled in their seats, smiling brightly. She always did; the ginger teacher taught her students to start the day on a positive note—something that was damn near impossible for Chloe to achieve most days. "Good morning, class! I'm happy to announce that we've almost reached our goal for our trip to Japan. Almost everyone has paid their fees and turned in their permission slips!" she announced cheerfully, writing down their agenda for the day along with an entry task. 

_Eh, maybe I will go. It's a good chance we'll run into Adrien_ , Chloe thought, taking a slip of paper from Ms. Bustier. The entry task was commonly easy for anyone else to answer, but Chloe had no answer. Leave it to Ms. Bustier to come up with such an impossible question. Chloe was tired, and she didn't feel like working today. Unfortunately, Sabrina wasn't here to do the work for her. 

"Are you having trouble, Chloe?" Ms. Bustier gently asked, crouching beside the blonde. She smiled at Chloe, patting her hand. "I can always help you, or you can ask one of your classmates for assistance," she offered. 

"I don't need help."

Ms. Bustier nodded, standing up. "If you change your mind or need clarification, I'm always here," she stated before moving along to help Ivan. 

It's not that Chloe didn't understand the question but didn't know what to say. What's your family like, was the question of the day. 

_Yeah, let's reveal to the whole class that I have a dysfunctional family, and I can't keep food down. My mother leaves for months on end, and my father doesn't even care to spend time with me,_ she bitterly thought, tapping her pencil o the desk. The good thing about entry tasks was that Ms. Bustier would tell them to leave their names off the paper, and some days, she would read some out loud (today, she wouldn't, though, as written on the chalkboard). Chloe's never got picked, so she figured she could use this as a chance to vent. Get everything off her chest before she drowned in the madness. 

Once she scrawled her answer, Chloe rested her head on the table. She hadn't slept the best and just wanted a few minutes of shut-eye. While Ms. Bustier was a strict teacher from time to time, she knew students would be drained and would allow students to sleep if they made sure to take good notes and their grades reflect that fact. 

"I hope you all did your homework because we have a quiz," Ms. Bustier chirped, receiving a collective groan from the students. 

Looks like Chloe would have to wait to nap. Receiving the papers from Ms. Bustier, she took one and passed the stack back. Maybe Chloe could call Daddy and tell him she wasn't feeling too good. She didn't want to take a test, and she didn't want to sit alone. Neither one of her best friends was at school, and Chloe could already guess some of the other students had something cheeky to say about her predicament. 

"I'm giving you thirty minutes to complete your quiz, and then you'll need to take out your textbooks and turn to page two-hundred-and-thirty when finished," she explained. "No cellphones, no talking even after you're finished. You may have quiet time until everyone finishes," she wrapped up.

Chloe raised her hand. "Can I go to the nurse's office? I don't feel so good," she asked. 

The literature teacher smiled, propped against her oak desk. "Please wait until you're called on, Chloe, and you can visit the nurse once you complete your quiz. You know the rules."

"I know that, but it's an emergency," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest. 

Ms. Bustier gave Chloe a knowing look. "After the quiz, Chloe, and that's final. It wouldn't be fair to let you go before a surprise quiz. Unless it's a life-threatening emergency, remain in your seat," the ginger finalized, and Chloe knew she had lost. 

So she did what any rebellious teenage girl did in these types of situations. Chloe stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder, and marched out of class, ignoring her teacher's class. "I'll just hide out in the bathroom; she's going to call the nurse or Mr. Damocles when she realizes I'm not coming back to class," she muttered, unlocking her shattered phone. Adrien had sent her a smiley emoji with a thumbs-up emoji added. With a giggle, Chloe sent a reply back. 

_Don't get caught, now. The last thing we need is Daddy Agreste getting mad and taking your phone. I would be so lonely without you, Adrikins._

Chloe was lonely, regardless. Adrien was slowly drifting away from her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He had better friends—friends that didn't demand his undivided attention all the time. Friends that he could laugh freely with, friends that _he_ liked spending time with. If Chloe and Adrien's parents never met, the blonde was sure that they would never have become friends. 

Settling for the locker room, the blonde sat against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest, dialing her father's number. "Daddy, please pick up. I know Mom won't answer my calls," she said, bouncing her leg. Chloe held her breath, listening to that dreadful dial tone before she was redirected to her father's voicemail. With an exasperated scream, she slid the phone across the tiled floor and pressed her forehead to her knees. "You had one job—one _fucking_ job, and you can't even do _that_ right," Chloe sobbed, letting the tears fall. 

Her chest squeezed as she hiccuped, biting her bottom lip. Knots coiled in her stomach, slowly reaching her throat, leaving Chloe breathless. Everything hurt, and Chloe felt her body tremble. Sobs wracked her body as she just squeezed herself, trying to calm herself down, but it was easier said than down. 

Chloe wanted to leave, and no one was answering her calls. If she asked Audrey to pick her up, the fashion icon would laugh, telling her to suck it up, get back to class because she was Bourgeois, and had to command respect. Andre was never busy as mayor; his job was easy, so he had no excuse to ignore Chloe's calls unless she was _that_ invisible to her parents.

She wiped her nose, feeling her lungs burn as she felt her eyes droop. Maybe Chloe would pick herself up and take a nap in the nurse's office or skip the rest of her classes. The material wasn't hard, and Chloe could get the notes from Max. 

The bell rang half an hour later, and Chloe sighed. Only six more hours to go.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If anyone could describe the Bourgeois family in a few words, it would be upper-class, well-maintained, orderly to an extent, _perfect._ Chloe would beg to differ. They were horrible people; dysfunctional, toxic, abusive, power-hungry. It was the ideal miniature dollhouse they had built. Deceiving everyone around them with their charming smiles and _generous_ donations, attending church every Sunday. They effortlessly slipped into the assigned roles when out in public or front of a camera. The noxious family had years to perfect their characters, and Chloe was the only one whose mask was cracking. 

Chips of her true personality bled through the cracks, begging for a release. She was beyond exhausted; the act itself was a chore. Like a cocoon, the blonde wanted to shed the molten skin and free herself from the prison that chained her down to the earth—a cry for help. Would anyone hear her pleads? She couldn't unload her burden onto Adrien; he had an abusive father and a dead/missing mother. He had it worse than Chloe did. 

She was terrible at reading emotions or knowing how to help. When Adrien needed someone to talk to, Chloe let him ramble on, following his every word, but she never knew what to say. The most she could do was rub his back, hug Adrien, and tell him that she would be there for him. Adrien understood her social awkwardness and didn't blame Chloe; he thanked her with a hug, crying into her shoulder. 

To be vulnerable around someone you trust, Chloe wished she could let everything out. The pressure was building up under the cap, reaching the breaking point, but Chloe forced the cap on tighter. She kept everything wrapped as tightly as she could, but it wouldn't work forever. 

"Would you like some medicine, mademoiselle?" Butler Jean asked, opening her door, finding the young girl curled up in her blankets.

Chloe nodded, poking her head out from under the covers. Butler Jean crossed the room, sitting on the edge of her bed, and gestured for her to sit up. He uncapped the white bottle, shaking out two pink pills, and handed her the glass of organic orange juice. "Thank you," she mumbled weakly, popping the drugs, and rinsed them down with a swing of juice. 

"I'll let your parents know you aren't feeling well," Butler Jean stated, standing to his feet. "And I'll make sure to bring you some warm chicken broth. It'll help with your upset stomach. Wastebin is on the left side of your bed," he informed. 

"Stay here and brush my hair," Chloe ordered, yanking Jean's arm, watching lose his footing for a brief second. The older man smiled, taking his place on the bed, and rested her head on his lap, running his fingers through her golden locks. "I just don't want to be alone with my thoughts."

Jean nodded, reaching for the brush. When Chloe was a happy little girl, once upon a time ago, she would ask her faithful butler to brush her hair, and the two would laugh and smile. It soothed her, and she missed these sessions. "Would you like a crown braid?"

"Yes."

As the butler braided her hair, recalling memories, Chloe closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth and gentleness of Jean's hands. Maybe things would have turned out better if Jean was her father; he could tolerate her excessive bullshit, and Jean was the one who stayed up late when Chloe was sick in bed. Even on his days off, Jean would check up on Chloe, making sure she took care of herself and helped her with homework, and gave her advice when asked. He was a better father—a better _parent_ than Audrey and Andre combined, but Chloe was desperate for any attention from her parents. 

Maybe in another life, Jean could be her father, and she could happily ever after. But happily ever afters existed in fairy tales—realms of pure fiction. Chloe had to face reality. 

"I can see you're getting sleepy. Why don't you go to sleep, and I'll prepare a snack for when you wake up," Jean whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead once he finished her braiding her hair. He brushed his finger against her cheek, smiling. "Please sleep, mademoiselle."

Chloe hummed in response, pressing her loyal teddy bear to her chest. When Butler Jean left the room, she felt the darkness take over her vision as tears slid down her warm cheeks. If only her parents were as loving and nurturing as Jean. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know Audrey would bash Americans (so would I, and I'm, unfortunately, America), and she will do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> I need to edit this story so badly.


End file.
